Page 44 of Birdy

Less than a year.

I zoned out after that, only heard bits and pieces of everything she said before the guards called time, and we had to hang up. Even walking back to the block was a blur. All I could think about was that my mom has cancer, and she’s refusing the treatment for it ‘cause she can’t afford it. Of course, she can’t—she’sstillundocumented, which cancels out health insurance from the equation. Noely’s still trying to pay off all of Tommy’s funeral expenses, so she can’t afford it either, and I’m in here, helpless to do anything.

If you had told me this is what my Saturday was going to turn into, that this was the conversation I was going to have with my sister during my weekly call home, I wouldn’t have believed you. This whole thing came out of nowhere; at least, for me, it did. Noely said Ma’sbeenfeeling off. Why hadn’t they told me anything?

“Whoa.” That’s Selena as she ambles into our cell fresh from the shower. She stops dead in her tracks, eyes widening from her place at the door.“Estas mas palida que un fantasma.You okay?”You’re whiter than a ghost.

“No.” I shake my head, hugging my knees tighter.

Lena’s in my bunk faster than I can blink, trapping my face in her palms. The furrow of her brows shows the full extent of her worry. “What happened?”

My mom’s going to die, and I’m not going to be there with her.

“I talked to Noely,” I rasp, willing back the new wave of tears threatening to break free.

I haven’t cried yet and don’t intend to. Not right now. If there’s one thing you need to remember about prison, it’s that, regardless of what the circumstances may be, showing vulnerability in any form is a no-go.

Don’t let them see you sweat.

Don’t let them see you break.

Point blank.

When I don’t continue willingly, Selena smooshes my face tighter, shaking me lightly while she’s at it. “What did she say, B? You’re scaring me.”

That makes two of us.“It’s my mom. They just found out she has stage-four colon cancer, and she’s refusing any sort of treatment because it’s so fucking expensive. Without it, they’re giving her less than a year.”

Lena’s expression flares in shock. It feels like an eternity passes as she regards me, unmoving, speechless, her stare flickering back and forth between my eyes. What she’s searching for, I don’t know, but the longer she looks at me, the harder it becomes to keep the tidal wave of emotions at bay.

“Oh my God, Benni.” She pulls me against her when my lip trembles, trapping me in her arms. “I don’t even know what to say. I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing to say, Lena. She’s gonna die, and I’ll still be in here.”

“Well, well, what’s going on in here?” Another voice rings out abruptly from the doorway.

It’s Mack.

Fuck.

?Play with Fire - Sam Tinnesz & Yacht Money

Benni didn’t look sohot when she got back from the phones. Pale and one-hundred percent zoned out in some zombie-like state, she headed straight for her cell without acknowledging anyone who tried to stop her along the way. I haven’t been here long, and evenIknow that’s not normal for her.

Something's up.

I wanted to go after her, to check on her and make sure she’s okay, but I can’t. Not unless there are obvious signs of illness or clear hints of suicide on the horizon.

Seeing Mack blocking the doorway has me feeling a certain type of way, though, the magazine in my hands crinkling from the force of my grip. This motherfucker literally got up from his desk and dipped out of the box to go over there when he buzzed Birks in from the phone hall. I didn’t notice it much the first few days, because, you know—Benni. But once I forced myself to focus on the job, I started seeing it.

Rodriguez was right.

Some days it’s more obvious than others, but Mack always has a reason to “apprehend” or “question” her about something.

Right now, it’s very obvious.

Why was that necessary? All she did was check-in and go to her cell. What could he possibly assume she’s doing in there that warrants such a reaction?

From my spot, I can see his shoulders bouncing through a laugh.

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